


A Heavy Curse

by GalMarshmallow



Category: Original Work
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Belly Kink, Button Popping, Dark Elves, Elves, Embarrassment, F/M, Fantasy, Fat - Freeform, Furniture Breaking, Immobility, M/M, Magic, Multi, Near Immobility, Original Character(s), Royalty, Stuffing, Weight Gain, expansion, stuckage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-08-07 19:36:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16414610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalMarshmallow/pseuds/GalMarshmallow
Summary: Set in a fantasy world, a greedy dark elf prince is cursed to never be satisfied and his waistline grows with his new insatiable hunger. Meanwhile, his arranged fiance is coming to stay with him and he fears what her reaction will be to seeing his altered physique.





	1. Of Greed and Gluttony

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted something a little different from my other fic so I've started an original work where I can have more freedom. So this story should end up having a little more conflict and a lot more kink stuff since there's magic involved. If extra big weight gain isn't your thing, the later chapters will probably not be for you.

 

Oren had no way of predicting the consequences of his purchase of the beautiful forest to the east of his township. It had belonged to a neighboring lord who had spoke highly of it and its orchards of wild fruit trees and bountiful game while visiting Oren’s manor. Some months later, Oren would come to believe that perhaps the lord had only told him this in order to get him to make an offer on it so that he could get it off of his hands. But at the time, it seemed like a good purchase. It was a lovely plot of land with an overgrowth of healthy trees and plenty of natural resources useful to him and his township.

The purchase had gone forward without issue, leaving his coffers still filled plentifully since he tended to mind his purchases very carefully. As soon as the deed to the land was in his possession, he had set his workers out to start to harvest the forest’s bounty. Lumber for the town and for export, fruits from the orchards for tarts and cakes, venison and pheasants for dinners within the manor. For a while, it felt like he really had worked out in his favor. The only drawback he could see was that he might need to get his wedding suit retailored by the time his fiance was able to come to the estate, given he was prone to overindulgence.

He only realized what a mistake the deal had been when the witch made herself known.

It was unclear how she had so easily entered the manor, but she appeared before him as he was having breakfast, entering the dining room through the main entrance as if she had been invited in.

She had a sleek but curvaceous form, wrapped in a dark clingy dress that sparkled with small gold embroidered details. Her skin was a pale purple which paired with her white braided hair and made her red eyes appear all the brighter. Oren looked to her with confusion, trying to identify her as he wondered whether he had forgotten some important guest or whether she might be the fiance he had been arranged with. But no, that couldn’t be quite right. His fiance was meant to be a high elf. This woman was clearly a dark elf, but not quite the same as he was. Though he shared her long white hair that matched the trimmed beard on his chin, his skin was like charcoal and his eyes two rings of gold. She was another kind, a race known to be linked closely with dark magic.

“Your highness,” the witch greeted him, bowing slightly out of courtesy for the prince. “Enjoying your morning meal?”

“Who are you?” Oren asked, setting down his silverware and looking at her warily. One of the servants saw the tension and moved to leave the room to retrieve one of the guards. The witch paid her no mind as she slipped away, only giving the prince her attention.

“I am Aria, and it seems your people have been encroaching upon my land.”

“Have they?” The prince furrowed his brows. “And you saw fit to come directly to me with no notice or permission?”

“You are certainly not the first person I spoke with, Prince Oren. I had to ask around quite a bit to find out what exactly was happening. I was even told at one point to leave my own land,” Aria told him, looking none too pleased but still keeping a calm demeanor. “It seems you recently accrued more land for your township without consideration for what it may be or who may live there.”

“You mean the Warblers’ Wood?” Oren asked. The servant returned to the room with the guards, but Oren held up a hand, gesturing for them to stay put. “My dear, I have the deed to that land. I purchased it quite fairly from our neighbors to the north. You should be asking permission to stay there, not telling me what I can and cannot do with the land that belongs to me.” Aria raised a brow and crossed her arms, seeming unimpressed with his stubborn response.

“You clearly know nothing of the land you’ve paid for. It is a wellspring of magic and tampering with what was a well balanced magical environment can have consequences. What you’re doing can turn what was a resource into a liability.” The prince scoffed at this.

“Tampering with it? I have no interest in magic. What we’re taking is natural to the lands. The ‘magic’ should have no need of trees or fruit or animals to work as it is intended. Don’t be so transparent if you wish to manipulate me. You just want the woods to yourself.” Oren smiled a smug smile. “I suggest you find someone else to give your ominous warnings to, hermit. You’ll get no reaction to them here.” The witch rested her hands on her hips and gave him an appraising look.

“I only wished to be diplomatic, your highness. But if this is what you wish. The consequences will be yours.” She turned to head for the door but as she did so, she put her hand up and gave a twirl of her wrist. “May your bounty be plentiful, but never quite enough for you,” she said. There was a small spark in the air and the guards at the doorway tensed, but the prince appeared unconcerned. The witch left and for the moment, it appeared nothing had happened. The prince continued on with his breakfast as if it had never been interrupted.

 

“Your highness, what would you like us to do about that witch?” one of the guards finally asked. “She could return.”

“Mm. I suppose we should do something before she gets petty with me about those woods,” Oren mused between bites of fruit filled crepe. “Send word to the town that I’m seeking a magic specialist who can live on site here at the manor. Payment can be discussed depending on how good they are at proofing my home against magical intruders.”

“Yes, my prince. I’ll see to it that we put out a notice to the surrounding towns,” the servant said, bowing his head and then turning to run off to begin his errand. The guards remained, clearly unsettled by the sudden, albeit brief, invasion. The prince appeared to have no such concern, or any concern at all outside of getting a second helping of his breakfast.

 

And then a third.

 

And a fourth.

 

Each bite felt more decadent and delicious than the last, the fruit sweeter than he remembered. Was it that each plate served was better or was it simply the flavor layering in his mouth as he went through each type of fruit crepe? He wasn’t sure and for a while he was lost in the act of eating until he hit his limit.

 

Prince Oren’s stomach felt uncomfortably tight after the fifth plate piled high with chocolate and cream drenched fruit on top of a small mound of crepes. He sat back in his chair, giving a soft wheeze as he felt utterly compressed behind his tautly packed stomach. His buttons were straining on his vest as well as his shirt, gaps between each one with how much they were pulled apart. But mysteriously, he still didn’t feel full. He felt he couldn’t eat another bite of food without bursting, but at the same time he felt just as hungry as before he started breakfast.

 

He pensively rubbed his stomach, eyes closed as he thought over what was happening. Sure, he had always been a little more eager for his meals than others in his family. But he at least knew when he had eaten enough. This was clearly something other than his normally mild gluttony. The kitchen maid stood off to the side of the table with some uncertainty at his condition, apparently worried he might ask for more. He worried too, because he very much did want to ask for more.

 

“I think I’m done for the morning,” Oren said, sounding a little strained. “As a matter of fact… I should probably just go back to my bedroom for now. Please tell the butler to amend the notice I sent out earlier looking for an expert in magic. Whatever pay we’re offering, tell him to offer more and to list that we are in urgent need,” he told the kitchen maid as he got up from his seat. He could feel the weight of all of that food shift with his movements, his center of balance terribly off from where it should have been. Still, he wasn’t going to allow it to make him look any less regal than usual. He straightened his back to stand at his full height, the posture serving to push his stomach forward and pop one of the buttons off of his vest.

 

He ignored this as best he could and started off for his room, moving a bit sluggishly but still keeping his refined posture. He wished the manor’s halls weren’t so long and winding as with his stomach so overfilled, it felt as if he had to walk a mile just to return to his chambers.

 

Finally reaching his bedroom, he ungracefully dropped onto his bed, laid on his back with his stomach jutting out above him, and allowed himself to relax while he gently rubbed his swollen belly in an attempt to soothe it. It was a surreal situation as he gently undid the buttons on his clothes, his charcoal belly surging forward a bit more with a little pop each time a button was undone until it was free from its cloth confines. It sagged slightly downward without the support of his shirt and vest and he wondered what the weight of the food must have amounted to.

 

Slowly he began to nod off, thinking at first of what he was going to do about this strange new problem only for his sleeping mind to instead dream up visions of eating endlessly.

 

Surely this was going to be a very troublesome curse.


	2. The Magic Consultant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mage is hired to live on site at the manor and begins to look into the prince's condition.

Despite their best efforts, it took the manor’s workers an entire week to find someone qualified enough to present to the prince. They had plenty of applicants but each had shortcomings in one department or another. They had tests, feats of magic the applicants needed to achieve from detecting spells to removing enchantments from items, and eventually they did find a trustworthy seeming candidate who could pass every test they gave. He was a traveler from another kingdom but he was interested in the job so they decided he would just have to do.

All that was left to introduce him to the prince and hope that the prince would trust him to do the job despite being from another land and of somewhat questionable origin.

 

“You’ll need to address him as ‘your highness’ or ‘my lord’ whenever you speak to him, and as ‘Prince Oren’ when speaking of him,” the butler coached their new adviser as he led him through the halls. “Please try to be sensitive of his… Condition. He will want your honest opinion as far as solutions go, but he’s not looking for criticism or dramatic reactions.” It made the mage wonder more and more about what this condition could be. He imagined the prince having been turned into a half man - half beast. Or perhaps having been drastically altered in personality. “Here we are. Please, don’t speak until you are addressed so that I may introduce you,” the butler said, opening the door and stepping into the room.

 

The mage quirked a brow at the sight of the prince as he was at the moment. The drow was stripped down to his underwear and undershirt, burgeoning belly putting quite a gap between the two garments. A servant had a strip of measuring tape around his middle, the tape pinching lightly into his fat. There were light ashy lightning bolt streaks along his sides, stretch marks from his weight shooting a good sixty pounds upwards over the course of a week. He was a little ways over the two hundred mark, not really remarkably heavy for a noble but still quite a startling change to happen over just a few days. His chest held a modest pair softened breasts while his face had gotten rounder, the hints of a double chin forming. But the weight had mostly settled right around his middle, causing him to sport a rather large pair of love handles and some extra smaller rolls above them in addition to the large rounded gut.

The servants were hurrying to measure him save for one who was holding a silver colored bowl of candies, from which the prince was snacking while he stood there and allowed the servants to prod and pull at him. The butler quickly stepped between the mage and the prince.

“Your highness, the magical adviser we appointed for you arrived. His name is Zephyr and he comes from the Caitha Empire.”

“Did we really have to search so far just for a mage?” the prince asked with a sigh. He didn’t appear shy at all about his lack of clothes, though spying the ruined pants not far away on the floor of the room Zephyr guessed this was a normal occurrence for him at the moment. “Is that him in the doorway? Let’s have a look.” The butler stepped aside for him and the prince looked over Zephyr as he took another candy from his bowl and ate it.

The mage was nothing like what he expected. He was tall and lanky with pale skin and dark hair. Red markings adorned his skin similar to tattoos but with a slight glow to them. But most noticeably, long curved white horns protruded from his head, curving back over top the hood he wore.  Zephyr stared at the prince before realizing he was being looked at and bowing his head.

“Your highness. I was told there was a magical problem to be dealt with. And… I do detect quite a bit of magic on your person. What has happened here?” the daemon mage asked, only picking his head up to look at Oren again as he spoke.

 

“A curse from a witch in the forest,” Prince Oren said with a disdainful look. “I feel hungry no matter how much I eat, and nothing seems to satisfy it.” The prince reached down to his stomach, giving it a squeeze in frustration that caused a little jiggle to ripple across it. “All of this is a side effect of it, though given the rapid growth, I suspect the magic is helping it along as well.” Zephyr nodded in understanding, but Prince Oren continued. “I have already been told how difficult it is to break a witch’s curse. I do implore that you try to find a way anyway, but the primary reason I wish for you to stay here on the premises is to prevent further magical intrusions. The witch just let herself in and I don’t need any more problems added on top of this.” Zephyr paused and made sure the prince was done before speaking.

 

“I understand. I will work to put a shield around the home that will ensure others cannot transport inside with magic. As for the curse, I would like permission to go out and explore the forest once I have finished proofing your home,” Zephyr said. “Getting a better look at what her magic does to her environment may give me some clues to work with for your situation.”

 

“Fine. Do what you need to do. My butler will show you to your new workspace and where you’ll be saying. Now, please leave me. We’re preparing for another visit from the tailor,” the prince told him, seeming almost tired in how he gave his order. Zephyr wondered how many prior visits he had from the tailor as it was.

Still, he did as he was told, leaving with the butler to see what he would be working with now that he had been accepted for the job.

 

\---

 

Proofing the home against magic had been pretty easy for Zephyr, used to working with charms. The prince didn’t have a lot of already existing magic to get in the way so it had just been a matter of placing his symbols around each room that went along the perimeter of the home, and then making some talismans for the garden outside just to be sure. He had plenty of time left in the day to snoop around for information on the curse.

He had made a brief stint into the forest and in doing so had discovered a few interesting things. Not anything that put him any closer to breaking the curse, but still things that gave him a better idea of what he was dealing with. It was information he imagined that the prince might be interested in knowing. 

By the time he had returned to the manor, it was time for dinner, and Zephyr was unsurprised to find the prince at the dinner table with a glut of various dishes spread around him. Prince Oren was already well into his meal, working through the platter of venison that Zephyr could see little sprigs of rosemary all over and a generous pool of gravy, but he paused when Zephyr entered the room.

“There you are. Come, take your dinner at the table here with me. I want to hear about your progress,” the prince told him before resuming his meal. One of the servants pulled out a seat next to him and the daemon hesitantly sat down. The role of adviser seemed to come with more perks than he had originally pictured it. He had imagined himself living in a basement below the manor to be ignored until each time they had a magic question.

 

Sitting next to Oren, Zephyr saw he had gotten a new suit tailored to fit him. However, he spotted an interesting aspect to the outfit. Subtly worked into the sides of Oren’s vest, there was some sort of elastic material, the same color but slightly shinier due to the texture difference. It was a smart idea, he thought, to prepare the clothes to hold up to further expansion before needing to replaced.

“Ah… My lord, I have fortified the home against magical intruders and paid a visit to the forest. I believe… I believe that the witch has a very specific sphere of influence,” Zephyr started off. The prince was still eating, but did slow slightly to look aside at him, pausing entirely only when he needed to pick up his napkin and wipe sauces or wine away from his mouth. He really did eat as if he was starving, even if he tried to look refined while doing it. “Seeing the state of the forest, I believe the dark magic she uses deals particularly in Life magic rather than Death as dark mages are known for. I believe she is why the forest flourishes so much but ah… I believe what is happening to you is also directly within her normal influence,” he went on.

“Life? What would healing have to do with hunger?” the prince said, not sounding too impressed.

“Ah, not healing, Life magic. As in, influence over living things. She makes the forest flourish and with you I think she has changed your instincts. I believe it is as simple as that and a slight change to your metabolism to get this result,” Zephyr said, confident about this conclusion.

“And what makes you so sure that’s all she’s done to me?” Oren asked him. “What makes you think it isn’t something worse and this isn’t just the beginning?” The prince was pessimistic but something in his tone conveyed a wish to be proven wrong. He didn’t want to be right in his paranoid concerns over the curse. He wanted Zephyr to reassure him, to give him some hope to hold onto that at worst he was just going to have problems with his diet.

“Well, ah, for one, after asking the servants, I found you were perfectly capable of stopping yourself from eating once you were too full to eat more without hurting yourself. If she was actually forcing you to eat, I don’t think you could stop conveniently like that,” the daemon explained. “But instinct can be a very strong influence. Your instinct to eat could be stronger than ever, but still be overruled by your instinct to avoid pain. Not to mention, I noticed quite a few of the animals in your forest are quite a bit… Chubbier than the same animals are in other regions. I believe she culls the excess of her forest by influencing the animals’ instincts the way she did yours. This also results in bigger, more useful prey animals for hunting.” Zephyr paused in his explanation to murmur some words of thanks to a servant who had dished up a plate for him while he was giving his explanation.

“So you think she’s not forcing this to happen? Only influencing it?” Oren asked, furrowing his brows as he thought about this. “I suppose it makes sense. But… I really can’t resist eating until that point,” he told his advisor, twirling his fork slightly with the meat on the end down against his plate to sop up a bit of gravy before he ate it. “I do try to control myself, but it’s difficult even keeping things at this level. I-I feel almost like I can’t eat quickly enough even. It’s bizarre,” Oren told him, giving a somewhat frustrated little sound of complaint as he had another big bite of venison. His stomach gave a quiet gurgle, apparently still having some protest against how fast he was filling it up.

“I… I don’t know if there’s anything I can do about that, my lord, but I will continue researching Life magic and see what I can find. I have some proficiency in dark arts, though enchantments are my specialty. So it’s possible I could use some of the same types of spells with enough study,” Zephyr told him, careful not to make any unrealistic promises.

“Thank you, Zephyr… I hope you can find something,” Oren said before reaching over to clank the back of his fork against Zephyr’s glass. “Now hurry up and start on your dinner. The last thing I need is your meal sitting around me untouched while my body is still convinced all of this isn’t enough to eat.”  
“Ah, yes sir- your highness.”

The rest of the meal was quiet save for the clicking of forks and knives against plates. Zephyr was careful to finish his whole plate so as not to annoy the prince. He wasn’t used to eating so much, living on the road as he had, so he felt a little fuller than he would have liked when he was done. But he counted himself lucky when he watched the prince continue to eat and eat. His protruding stomach earlier in the day when they had met didn’t convey just how big it could be when stretched and filled up with rich food. 

By the time Oren had finished his meal, he was breathing in long, slow breaths and looking as if he had just completed an arduous task. The plates on the table were entirely empty and Oren asked only that the staff pour him another glass of wine before they took it all away. He still hadn’t excused the mage so his adviser was simply sitting and waiting, watching him try to deal with the discomfort of his overburdened belly.

Oren seemed to have forgotten about him while he sat back in his chair, lightly rubbing and trying to soothe his stomach with one hand, and holding his wine glass to sip from with the other. Zephyr watched this for a little bit, wondering what it must feel like for the prince to be like this at every meal, always packed to capacity without really feeling full. He then coughed, catching his attention again.

“Oh. You’re still here. You’re excused, Zephyr. I just need to sit a minute before I can head back to my room,” the prince told him, making a shooing motion with his hand. The daemon stood and gave a small bow.

“Thank you, sir.” He turned to leave the room, glancing over his shoulder at the prince and then lingering as he saw the butler hurry in with a roll of parchment in hand. He couldn’t hear from the doorway what they were saying, but the prince soon looked his way.

“Zephyr, you need to fix the magic barrier tomorrow. It’s tossing our mail out into the road,” the prince told him before turning his attention back to the butler. The daemon frowned tiredly. If they got messages teleported in to them with magic, they should have mentioned it right away. Clearly this household didn't know enough about magic to even tell him to do his job correctly. A second pass at the system to allow objects through was going to be a lot trickier. He'd have to make sure there weren't any other special needs they had forgotten to bring up. He turned to leave, missing the look of dread on the prince’s face when he actually opened his message.

  
  
  


“ _ She’ll be here sometime next week… Oh, Greer, I didn’t even think about her seeing me like this _ ,” the prince said to his butler, holding his head in one hand. “ _How are we going to explain_?”

“ _...I think the truth is the best course of action, my lord _ ,” the butler answer. “ _ After all… This is a rather large and difficult to hide secret. _ ”

“ _ I know… But I can only think of how big I might be by the time she gets here.” _


	3. The Princess Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oren's fiance Ashling arrives at the estate for her stay and the prince struggles to explain his situation to her while she settles in.

 

Princess Ashling watched the countryside roll by from her place within the carriage, thankful that the place she was going at least had such a lovely and lush appearance. The elven princess was tall and remarkably slender as most high elves were, dressed in a white dress with golden leaves embroidered along the trim. Her hair was brown and wavy, held back by little braids that connected behind her head. She had fair skin with freckles, doeish dark brown eyes, and full peachy lips. While quite lovely to humans, she was considered fairly plain by the other high elves and was used to being seen this way.

She wasn’t excited for this marriage, but she knew she certainly could have done worse. She had met the prince about three previous times in her life. Two when they were both younger and thus not at a stage in life where she could properly judge the prince’s character. And once somewhat recently at a social event where she tried her best to get to know more about him.

 

What she had learned was that the prince was unsurprisingly very proper and had a certain grace to him that not all of the other royals could quite pull off. And that he seemed to be entirely unaware of how snarky he was when it came to talking to others who had said something that annoyed him. In the end she couldn’t quite decide how to feel about the prince, but knew with her patience that at the very least they should be able to get along.

She hoped that her judgement was correct in this when making plans to visit and stay with him. She had written ahead to let him know she would be arriving but that was about all the leeway she had given him. After all, she couldn’t give the prince the opportunity to turn her away. She needed to see what she would be dealing with upon marrying him. Neither of them were direct heirs to the crown, both having multiple older siblings, so she knew he couldn’t have all that much important business to make her stay impractical.

What she had done in preparation though was inform her parents of what she would be doing and they seemed quite pleased with the idea. A high elf being engaged to a dark elf was not unheard of in a time when the kingdoms were trying to work together peacefully, but their history with each other still left some doubts in the minds of those who were involved in this union. Her parents likely wanted to hear from her that the prince was kind to her and not at all the dark hearted brute that the old high elf stories would describe the dark elves as.

 

“Kiara, I’m a little nervous,” Ashling told her handmaiden. Kiara was shorter than Ashling with a somewhat chubby build, dressed in the same colors with a modest capelet around her shoulders. Her blonde hair was pulled back in one thick braid with a gold band of fake flowers over the top of her head and soft green eyes. Other than her short stature, she was more of a classical beauty than Ashling was, something the two of them would occasionally joke about in private. Ashling would often say Kiara must have been the actual princess while Kiara would say that they had to swap her because she was too chatty to be a princess.

“It’s normal to be nervous. But I’m sure the prince will be a nice man! You did say he was very polite at the party. And look how nice his home is!” Kiara told the princess optimistically. Ashling gave a meek smile, still looking unsure, and Kiara looked out to the homes of the townsfolk. “His villagers look nice and healthy too. Well fed, well groomed,” she added, pattering her fingers against the carriage window. “If he were a tyrant, it wouldn’t be such a nice place to live, would it?”

“...I suppose you’re right. He must care for his people, at least a little bit,” Ashling said with a soft sigh, looking out the window with her. She wasn’t worried about her idea going wrong. The absolute worst scenario was being turned away and having to deal with her parents’ reaction to that. But she was worried about the prince revealing himself to be an unpleasant person.

 

As they arrived, the high elves noted a rather odd sight. A daemon man, uncommon to their area, out in the front gardens working on carving some sort of odd wooden totem. When the carriage stopped, the footman hesitated to open the princess’s door, keeping an eye on the daemon.

“Your highness, how should we proceed?” he asked through the window instead.

“...Perhaps he is a gardener. We should just… Oh, good, the butler,” Ashling said with relieved look at spying a uniformed drow leaving the front entrance with a pair of other servants to open the gate to the estate and welcome them in. The footman opened the door and the princess and her handmaiden stepped out while the butler bowed to the royal at the gate.

 

“Your highness, Princess Ashling Caemfaere. We’ve been expecting you,” the butler said before straightening up to lead them in. “Our staff will get your things from the carriage and take them to your room. I trust your journey was without trouble?”

“Yes, there was no trouble. What is… Who is that servant over there?” the princess asked, gesturing off to the daemon in the gardens who still hadn’t looked their way.

“Ah. Please, pay him no mind. The prince has hired Zephyr as an adviser on magical matters. He is a trusted member of our staff,” the butler said, understanding how the daemon’s presence likely unnerved the high elves. He considered it lucky that the one they had hired was so lanky and scrawny, not at all threatening like a muscularly built daemon warrior. Otherwise it would be much harder to convince them that he was nothing to worry about.

 

As they were led inside, Ashling looked around at the prince’s decor. There were plenty of portraits of his family members as well as other artwork. Over the the mantle in the den they passed, she spotted a portrait of him, poised properly on top of a black horse decorated in purple and gold adornments. This got a slight smile from her, imagining going riding with him as she liked to do back at home. Perhaps he even liked bow hunting and they would have something to do together while they got to know each other.

“So, where is Prince Oren?” Ashling asked the butler as she and Kiara followed him along through the home.

“He, um… He is in the library. But he asked that he talk with you alone when you arrive. So… Your handmaiden and I will have to wait out in the hall,” Greer told her, seeming on edge as he said it.

“...Perhaps there’s something important he wants to discuss then,” Ashling said, looking aside at Kiara.

“I’m sure there’s a reason for it,” Kiara agreed softly with a nod and a sheepish smile. The butler said nothing more until they reached the library and knocked on the door.

“My lord, the princess has arrived. Are you ready to greet her?” Greer called through the door.

“Y-yes, please, let her in,” the prince’s voice came back, sounding strained. Greer already knew why so he didn’t question it, simply opening the door for Ashling to let her in.

 

Ashling felt a wave of confusion when she entered the library and saw the prince standing by his desk. He looked… Very different from how she remembered. And from the portrait in the den. He was leaning with one hand on his desk, a book in the other, and looking a little flushed and sweaty though his charcoal skin made it a little tough to see. His face was also much rounder and his neck a lot thicker, connected to a barrel chested body. She could see a divot around his thick waist, his somewhat tight clothes betraying the presence of some kind of girdle or corset underneath.

From his posture, she guessed that he was standing that way to suck in his gut further and hold out his chest. No measures would be able to make him look thin though. The girdle prevented her from seeing how big his belly had gotten, but she would hazard a guess that he was around 300 pounds from the look of his upper body; double the size she had last seen him at.

The prince spoke before Ashling did, filling the silence.

“Ashling, I...I know this is probably a shocking change. I had hoped to get it taken care of before I next saw you. But there is a reason for it,” Oren started off, furrowing his brows and trying not to look quite so worried about her reaction. He closed the book and set it down on the desk to straighten up. “Ah… I hope you are not too bothered by the change,” he said, wary of continuing without some sort of response first since she seemed to simply be staring at him.

“I… No, I’m just surprised,” she told him, realizing how rude it must have been of her. “I didn’t expect you to look any different since I didn’t see you that long ago. But this is fine. There’s no need to give me excuses for it,” she said, offering a somewhat amused smile at how he had offered to give her an explanation for why he had gotten so fat. As if he needed some excuse or else she would be offended that he dare put on weight while she was away. Though, it was mildly alarming for it to be  _ so much _ weight in not too long of a timespan, but that still wasn’t any of her business. The prince on the other hand looked embarrassed by her comment, face flushing further.

“I wasn’t going to make any excuses for you. I meant a real explanation. Well… Nevermind. I suppose we can discuss it later after you’ve settled in,” he said, seeming too caught off guard now by her unexpected reaction. The princess walked over closer, causing him to tense slightly and pull his head back some as she looked him over. “Ashling?”

“I’m just taking a look at your clothes. Your vest looks a little odd,” she mused, reaching out to touch the stretching material along the side.

“Hmph. You could just ask about it,” the prince tsked, though he didn’t pull any further back. He just let her touch his side, watching her hand press against it.

“Okay. Why does your vest look like that? And am I allowed to ask about your corset?” she asked with a teasing little smile, taking her hand off of him.

“The material is imported and it stretches much further than normal wool or cotton,” he told her. “It makes it easier for my vests to remain comfortable even when I’m… Feeling bloated,” he said, choosing his wording carefully now that he was waiting to fully explain that he would be continuing to grow. “And it’s not a corset. It’s… Well, it’s sort of a corset,” he admitted with a huff, putting his hands on his stomach to feel the boning of the undergarment. “I just didn’t want you to be… I mean…” He was at a loss for words and Ashling finally frowned, realizing that he was more bothered by this than he had let on at first. In trying to be so serious and straight forward with her, he had thought he was unaffected. But looking at him now, she realized he had been embarrassed by these changes.

“Oren. I would never think poorly of you for being portly,” she told him, reaching out to take his hand and encourage him to look her in the eye. “I know you don’t know me well yet. But I assure you, I’m not here to criticize your life or your looks or anything like that. I simply want to know you. To know what you’re like on the inside,” she told him, giving him a light pat. “And I think you’re a very handsome man. Your size does not change that.”

 

Oren felt a ping of shame that the princess felt that she had to reassure and comfort him, feeling she might think he was a little more fragile than he really was with how this encounter had gone. He disliked the idea of her seeing him as sensitive about his look. The fact that she was a high elf and thus just as tall as him didn’t help, unable to really avoid her line of sight with his eyes. He knew he was handsome and he thought he carried his weight quite well. It was just very inconvenient. But he realized she was right in that he worried about her opinion. He didn’t want to be seen as lazy or as a single-minded glutton. But it seemed Ashling wasn’t the type to make those sorts of judgements.

“Well, thank you, Ashling. You are… Very lovely. By personality too, I think. I haven’t had a chance to know for sure,” he told her with a soft chuckle. “I’m sorry for all the dramatics as well. I’m sure you want to go and see your room and get your things arranged. But perhaps when you were done, you could join me in the gardens for some tea and a game of croquet to unwind?”

“Croquet? I didn’t expect you to like such relaxed games,” Ashling said with a grin. “I think settling in can wait until later tonight. I’d love the chance to play with you.”

“Oh. I’ll tell the butler to get our tea ready then while we head outside.” Oren offered his arm to Ashling, smiling when she accepted it to walk with him out of the library.

Kiara and Greer were still lingering outside and when the door opened, Greer quickly straightened up and Kiara very pointedly avoided staring at the prince since Greer had clearly mentioned the change to her. However, she noticed their arms looped together and decided whatever they had needed to talk about had gone well, so she relaxed. “Greer,” Oren said. “Ashling and I are going to go to the garden. Please make us some tea, and something to eat. Some finger food, please,” the prince said on his way by them.

“Yes, my lord,” the butler said with a slight bow of his head before hurrying off to the kitchen. He really needed to hire more kitchen staff to keep it running as much as it needed to lately. Kiara followed after Ashling and the prince.

“Ah, my lady, would you prefer I accompany you or see to it that your luggage is being handled properly?”

“Oh, yes, please make sure my things make it to the room alright. Oren’s servants don’t know which of my bags has my perfume bottles in it,” Ashling told Kiara. Though true, it was mostly an excuse to be alone with Oren for a little while so they could just talk now that the initial roadbump was out of the way.

  
  


Once out in the gardens, they started to play their game. Oren seemed a little distracted but still kept up with the game and their conversation where they primarily talked about their interests and recent events. The prince avoided mentioning the curse directly but did mention the magical adviser was due to an intruder a couple of weeks prior, and that Zephyr had proven to be a fairly useful and polite man if not a little quirky. He let her do most of the talking outside of that, something that she picked up on and that made her wonder if he had always been this quiet.

He suddenly perked up when his butler returned with their tea and snacks. She was surprised at the little tiered display with various treats on each level, not having expected so much. She could see sugar dusted almonds and berries, various little sandwiches, tea cakes, some sort of soft bread cookies; All a little bit much for two people just to have with their tea while they played croquet. But the prince seemed pleased and she watched as the butler stood by him with his tea and a small selection of the goods from the display.

“I’m sorry, Ashling, I got a little off track there. What were you saying?” the prince asked, the butler staying right where he was to hold the dishes while Oren had a sip of his tea then selected one of the little sandwiches.

“I was just going to ask about your horses. I was telling you about my horse back home. She’s an imported breed. Very cute with little speckles on her backside. Do you have many horses?” she asked, though she decided against asking whether they could ride together. It could be a sore topic if the horses were reluctant to carry him now.

“Oh, of course. The stables are down past the meadow behind the house, and our stableboy takes very good care of them. They may be different from the ones you are used to though. I’ve never seen a horse like that,” the prince said, pausing only to eat his little sandwich and then pick up another one. “Perhaps you could ride my horse if you wish to go out. She is a local breed. Very sleek with beautiful black hair. She is rather fast though when she gets running. Are you used to riding horses that can be a little tougher to handle?” The princess grinned at that.

“No horse is tough for me to handle. Hunting is my hobby, and riding right along with it. But I’m sure she is very nice. I’ll definitely take her out for a ride while I’m here.” She blinked as she realized one of the servants as standing quite near her and holding her tea and saucer for her as the butler did for Oren. Was this a habit for their household? She was just as happy to leave the tea on the table and come back to it whenever she wanted a drink. But she wasn’t about to question their customs, so she had a sip of tea then lined up her mallet with the ball for the next shot.

“Sounds like you spend a lot of time outside. As I mentioned though, we recently had an intruder. So I do implore that you always bring at least one of the guards with you when you go out for rides,” the prince mentioned as casually as he could, worried at the idea of the witch taking a disliking to the princess by association with him and cursing her as well. He couldn’t see that ending very well for either of them, especially if her family found out.

“You seem worried, Oren. Should I be worried too?” Ashling asked with a somewhat teasing little lilt to her voice.

“Hmph. It doesn’t hurt to be cautious, Ashling. I just want you to enjoy your time here without having to concern for your safety.”

“Then I will be very careful. And perhaps bring a guard along,” she said with a smile. She took her shot and wound up knocking one of Oren’s croquet balls out of bounds, getting a little huff from him. “Oops! It really has been a while since I played this.”

“I can tell,” he said, though an amused little smile crossed his lips as he turned to go and get his ball. She watched him, leaning lightly on her mallet while he bent down in a way that made his pants cling tightly to his shape. She couldn’t help but think about how his round backside and thick legs gave him a far more curvaceous form than hers. High elves were known for their slim figures after all. But such a contrast to her own shape, she realized there was a certain attraction. While still a surprising change, maybe it was a good thing if it made her more interested.

 

The prince returned and she quickly corrected her posture, giving a big smile while he looked at her with an almost suspicious look for whatever she might have been up to while he was looking away. He returned the ball to the play area and then the game continued, all the while the butler going back and forth to bring him more tea and more of the snacks. In the end, he had cleared the whole thing while Ashling had made it through two cups of tea and a single tea cake and the score for the game was similarly lopsided.

“Well, I’m happy that you didn’t take it easy on me, but now I know I need a lot more practice,” the princess laughed, handing off her mallet to one of the servants to put away. “You certainly spoiled your dinner though. Don’t you know you’re not supposed to eat sweets so close to supper time?” she teased him while the prince crossed his arms.

“Dinner is certainly not spoiled. I’ll eat what I like and then eat dinner too. You’re not going to mother me about that, are you?” he teased in return with a quirked brow.

“Of course not~ You know better than I do what you can eat. But I’ll still make fun of you if you’re not able to finish your dinner because you filled up on sweets,” she said with a grin. ‘ _ That will never be a problem for me, _ ’ Oren thought to himself.

“Imagine it all you like. You won’t get to make fun of me because it won’t happen, hah. But I think I do need a little time to myself before dinner. I need to take a bath. I didn’t account for it being so humid out here,” the prince said, pushing his hair back some as he wiped a bit of sweat from his brow. Ashling said nothing about this but did give him a somewhat amused look. She didn’t know anyone who could work up even a slight sweat from such a casual garden game, even if he did blame it on the weather.

“You’d better go do that then. I think I’ll do the same. It was a long trip here so I could probably use it,” she said, fanning herself lightly with her hand for emphasis. The prince tsked at this, finding the gesture childish.

“Well, do as you like. The estate is free for you to use as you like while you’re here,” the prince said, heading back into the house. All in all, the princess seemed like she was going to be a little bit of a handful, but not as bad as he expected. At least, at this stage. But his eating had already gotten her attention. He would have to do something about dinner.

“Shall I draw your bath for you and talk with the kitchen staff about our extra guests?” Greer asked as he came to join him on the walk back toward his room once he was sure the princess had another servant to help her find her own room within the manor.

“Yes, Greer, please do. But… I’ve decided we’re going to do dinner differently than we usually do,” the prince told him. The butler gave an unsure look.

“How so, my lord?”

“...I want to only have a portion of it served at dinner time. And to take the rest in my room later once the princess has retired for the night.” Greer held in the urge to let out an exasperated sigh.

“So we’ll be hiding the curse from her then, will we?” he asked to be sure. The prince avoided his gaze, almost looking guilty.

“I doubt she’ll want to stay for very long anyway. I’m sure she will grow bored with me. She seems very… Lively. So it’s simpler not to endanger the engagement this way. If she doesn’t see how I’m eating, and if I do my best to cut back while she is here so that I don’t grow so quickly, it won’t be noticed,” he told him softly. “I only have to make it a few days. I don’t think she’ll want to be here any longer than that.”

“...If that is how you want to do things, sire. I will let the kitchen staff know of the new schedule.” 

 

Greer had a bad feeling about this already, but who was he to argue with the prince? Perhaps they would get lucky and he would be right about Ashling. If not… Well, he imagined it might cause more problems than it solved.


	4. Dinner With Guests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oren goes ahead with his plan on how to make it seem as though he is eating less at dinner so as not to raise suspicions from Ashling or Kiara. Meanwhile Greer is having some difficulty accepting Oren's dishonest approach to Ashling's visit.

Dinner with Ashling and Kiara was difficult, at least for Oren. Since he had Zephyr sit with him, Ashling had asked to let Kiara join them, reasoning she was the closest thing to an ‘adviser’ she had and thus should be allowed to sit with them as well. Oren made no complaint about this, though he had a suspicion that Ashling only wanted to ensure Kiara was there so that she had someone familiar there with her. As much as the princess liked to go out and participate in sportsman’s activities, it sounded to him like she didn’t travel much. He imagined this was a new experience for her.

So it was the four of them at the table which meant the wide variety of dishes looked a little more reasonable for the amount of people to eat them. Zephyr never ate more than his first plateful, though he did eat anything put in front of him. The prince rather appreciated that trait in him given his current situation. Not to mention the pallid daemon had finally started to look a little healthier since coming there, something that could be chalked up to the actually nutritious food opposed to his old diet he had described as “mushrooms, berries, and whatever else I find on the road”.

Ashling didn’t eat so bird-like as he had imagined she would, but her portions were still meager compared to his and Kiara had little more than Ashling did. So as he expected, even with things cut down considerably, Oren’s plate was still the fullest and he still had it refilled multiple times. However with guests more talkative than his adviser had been, he could at least chat with them and not make it look like he was just attempting to eat as much as he could. And it did distract him a little from the fact his mind and his stomach were both urging him to do just that.

 

Their conversation was fairly mundane even when Oren prompted Zephyr to chime in, only getting little snippets from him about his experiences with whatever each topic was or what was different or done instead back where he was from.

“The weather was always a lot hotter there. It made animals scarce at times due to droughts,” Zephyr said when the topic of hunting came up and he was asked. “But we could always dig up firebeetle grubs under patches of scrub brush. They were very big. Some as long as your forearm. Good for protein.” Kiara made a bit of a gagging sound despite her best efforts before speaking up.

“I don’t think eatin’ grubs is a proper dinner topic,” she gently corrected Zephyr. The daemon smiled a faint smile at that.

“It  _ was _ dinner during the droughts though.” With that he just went back to eating, having a big bite of baked potato from his plate.

 

It wasn’t until Oren had finished his dinner that anything really got off track. He had done his best to not actually clear all of the serving platters, though he had still eaten quite a bit to the point that it was uncomfortable to wear the girdle under his clothes. He could feel the boning pressing sharply into the center of his stomach where it had the most pressure to contend with. His clothes hid just how tight it was but without them, he imagined strips of flesh bulging out against the stretchy cloth then pinching back in wherever there was a piece of boning to hold the girdle’s shape. The tightness made him feel fuller than he was though so he made no motion to so much as loosen the garment.

“What do we have for dessert?” Ashling asked as Oren set his fork down by his final cleaned plate, getting a bit of a surprised look from the prince.

“Dessert? Ah. Right… Greer?” he asked the butler, looking aside to see if he had been prepared since the initial plan had cut down dinner considerably. He didn’t know if Greer had made them wait to cook dessert as well for later. The butler seemed unfazed and gave a slight bow of his head.

“I’ll tell them to bring it out, my lord,” he said before heading off to the kitchen. The prince sat back in his seat, his round stomach rising and falling slowly with each breath with his hands rested on top. Usually by now he would be rubbing it and groaning, trying to soothe its complaints after being overfilled. Instead he felt little hunger pangs, complaints of not being given enough. He furrowed his brows as his stomach even gave a quiet gurgle, pretending not to notice it when Ashling gave him a curious look.

“If you’re too full for dessert, you can say so, Oren. I just really wanted to try whatever sweets your kitchen staff make,” she told him with a smile. “The food really is amazing. We don’t have anything half this delicious back home.”

“I’m not too full. And… Really? It’s just local grown things, mostly meat from the forest though rather than farm animals. Wild grown fruits and nuts too,” Oren mused. “You don’t have pheasants back home?”

“Oh we do, but they don’t taste like this,” Ashling told him. “Isn’t that right, Kiara?”

“Oh, yes. Your birds are so plump n’ tender,” Kiara agreed with a nod.

“Well, I’m glad you’re both enjoying it. I suppose I had just gotten used to it,” Oren said, wondering if there really was that big of a difference.He would have never guessed so but he hadn’t traveled even a little bit since the curse had begun so he wouldn’t know if the food in his own village had changed in comparison to those around it. Ashling had certainly noticed a difference though and wondered if perhaps this was why the prince had suddenly become so much bigger. If all of his food was this delicious, she could even see herself putting on a couple of pounds before leaving there. She regretted not trying more of the snacks during their game earlier in the day.

The butler finally returned with one of the kitchen staff, moving along a little cart with a few different pies on it. They were rather large pies as well, in pecan, apple, and peach varieties, and the kitchen maid laid them out carefully on the table and sliced them into equal pieces for serving. She served Oren first, putting a large slice of each flavor on his plate before looking over to the princess. The princess considered her choice carefully before asking for the pecan, fairly delighted to see the big slice on her plate with its gooey, golden fill spilling out. There would be no modest portioning while the prince had the lion’s share, even if he certainly still had the most.

The prince however seemed a little uncomfortable, eating his food with the same eagerness as before but occasionally stopping to shift around a bit in his chair or tug at his vest. Ashling might not have noticed if not for how his chair creaked whenever he moved. Aside from that, she was wrapped up in the sugary, decadent pie, savoring each bite as she ate. The texture was perfect, gooey with a wonderfully flaky crust and crunchy pecans on top. It was also very rich and took a bit of effort to make it through the whole slice. But it was just too enjoyable to leave undone, so she eventually finished the slice with a happy little sigh. 

 

She felt pleasantly full, a feeling she didn’t experience often since she was encouraged at home to eat more daintily and modestly. Maybe the prince had the right idea.

At least she thought so until she saw him dabbing away sweat from his brow and looking a bit strained. The pie was all gone, save for Zephyr’s unfinished slice, and Oren had gotten most of each one. It looked like it might have been too much judging by how he was reacting. He noticed she had finished and stopped his fidgeting, clearly trying to hide his discomfort.

“Ah, it’s been an eventful day today with your arrival, Ashling. I think I shall retire to my room,” Oren said, moving to stand up. He froze up at feeling his chair lift right up with him. While his backside was much more voluminous than it had been before, it wasn’t enough to fill up the chair. However, his sides bowed out quite enough to force the arms of the chair to squeeze him, gripping onto him now that he was more bloated. Kiara covered her mouth while Ashling could feel her face flushing red, doing her best not to show any signs of amusement for the poor prince. Zephyr on the other hand gave the prince’s plight one look and then casually stood to pull the chair off of him.

“That sounds like a good idea, your highness. I have some more work to do in my workspace now that the manor is quiet, if you’ll excuse me,” the mage said, pulling back on the chair until it popped off and he could gently set it back down into place. The prince’s face flushed darkly and he gave a small nod of approval.

“Yes, you’re excused, Zephyr. Thank you.” The mage took his leave with some swiftness, suggesting he really didn’t want the princess or her servant to stop him before he could get out of the room, while the butler watched Oren with a look of concern over his feelings on what had just transpired. Oren was quiet for a long moment, staring ahead of himself, until a quiet growl from his stomach broke the silence. A sign he really ought to just get out of there. He brushed off the embarrassment, looking to Greer as if nothing had happened. “Greer, see to it that the arms are removed from my chair before tomorrow morning,” he said simply before turning away from the table and leaving the room.

The princess and Kiara stood once he was gone to leave for their own room, Kiara lingering only to speak to the butler.

“Is he going to be alright? He seemed rather upset for a moment there…” the handmaiden asked Greer, disliking the idea that they might have made things worse by not saying anything.

“He’ll be fine, I’m certain. I should go and help him get ready for bed, so I’ll be there if he is still upset,” Greer assured her. “...But it would be helpful if you stayed in your rooms tonight. I think a little peace and quiet will help him at least get to sleep,” he added after a moment of thought.

“Oh of course. I wasn’t going to be wandering the halls after he’d gone to bed anyway,” Ashling assured Greer from the doorway. “In fact, I think I’ll head to bed early as well. It has been a long day.” With that, the princess and her handmaiden left the dining hall, allowing Greer to continue his work. He sent the kitchen maid back to let the staff know the princess and her servant were gone and that the prince would be ready in his room very soon.

  
  


Oren was glad to see Greer arrive, already having unbuttoned his vest and shirt as well as having shrugged off his jacket. He was sitting on the bed with his shirt open, showing how deep the girdle was digging in to the top of his stomach and his sides. His breasts were resting slightly against the top curve with how it was pushed up by the restraining garment and a roll of fat was pinched all the way around to his back in the same manner. He cupped his hands over his stomach and looked at Greer.

“Please, hurry and get me out of this thing,” Oren told the butler. Greer did just that, coming over to undo the tiny, tightly clinging hooks that held the hold thing together in the back. It practically pulled itself out of his hands when he got it undone and Oren’s stomach surged forward with renewed freedom. While it hadn’t been too bad to have his extra weight reined in by the garment when he hadn’t eaten, but much more space was taken up when his stomach was filled. Now it was sitting in his lap, bloated but still sagging some with its weight as it hadn’t been entirely filled as he had become accustomed to. “Pants next. I can’t stand this another minute,” the prince huffed, pulling himself up to his feet for Greer to help peel the tight slacks off of his curvaceous form.

Greer noticed the angry little indents along Oren’s waistline the tight waistband had left and made a note to see if the tailor could start adding the elastic there as well as he had done for Oren’s vests. The drow prince’s backside was looking quite pillowy as he managed to get his pants down past it, having to struggle a bit with the wide mass. Greer also noticed how his thighs had reached the point where they touched, though just a soft contact in the top half. They probably rubbed together when he walked now. He would need to seek something to put on them if it started to irritate Oren’s skin there. Oren sat back down on the bed once he reached his ankles, letting the butler pull the pants the rest of the way off. He was now bare save for his undergarments which were hidden by his belly when viewing directly in front of him.

“That’s so much better,” the prince sighed in relief, sitting back against his pillows. Without his clothes on, his body had room to spread out and settle, showing all the girth that had been previously hidden. He seemed so much wider without the girdle holding him in, taking up more space than two of him would have before the gain had started. But Greer knew his stomach wouldn’t be pooling across his lap like it was now once it was filled up with food, always prone to jutting out in front of him instead once he had eaten.

Relevant to that thought, two of the kitchen staff arrived at his door, each toting a cart laden with the other unserved foods from dinner. The prince could enjoy the rest of his meal without having to worry about the princess’s thoughts on the sheer volume of food he was eating. The kitchen staff left once everything was settled so it was just him and Greer as the butler dished up his first plate for him.

 

The prince didn’t slow at all the way he had in the dining room. Without the girdle compressing him, his hunger took center stage once more, and he eagerly attempted to sate it. Though he felt some embarrassment at eating in bed, and without his clothes as well, he was enjoying how comfortable it was. As his stomach filled up, it just pushed out further, nothing holding it back. He didn’t feel discomfort from chair arms digging into his lovehandles or concern over creaky chair legs. He could just sit among his pillows and indulge without shame, knowing Greer wouldn’t think twice about him acting this way. He trusted him and the butler had been very good to him so far.

Greer dutifully refilled his plate each time it emptied and handed it over to him, the prince using a provided little card table to eat off of to avoid having to hold any hot plates himself. He was happy like this, just taking one plate after another and quieting his stomach’s growls for more food. So many savory meats and cheeses and roasted vegetables and decadent fruits. It was followed up with a string of dessert dishes; puddings, cakes, cookies, fruits with cream. One by one, each serving platter on the carts emptied while Oren’s stomach filled. The swell of his gut began to force his legs to spread apart slightly to make room for it, and each time he leaned forward to eat he could feel it was a little more in his way.

The prince focused primarily on the food in front of him, but he still had a nagging thought at the back of his head. He noticed each time his bicep brushed across his breast or how leaning forward and sitting back jiggled various parts of his body. He had never eaten like this, fully undressed. Typically when he undressed, it was straight to bed or into the bath for him. So moving around without any clothes on and eating at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel particularly gluttonous. 

He couldn’t help thinking about how much fatter he had become and how what he was eating was sure to only cause him to grow bigger. Yet he didn’t particularly feel bad about this. He had no negative feelings for his appearance, regardless of how big he got. He did worry about what important people would think of him, such as Ashling, but that was about all the thought he had on the change in appearance. He was handsome after all. But the inconvenience was the problem. Every busted button, every uncomfortably tight chair, every activity that became less doable for him, it was frustrating. If it had at least proceeded at a slower rate, he might not have cared at all. He might have even scoffed at the witch for thinking such a silly thing as this could be considered a curse. But he was too hungry to find it funny, too unsatisfied. And he felt he was swelling up at too fast a speed to ever quite adjust to it.

By the time he had finished eating, he was feeling quite tired and impossibly full. As always, he wasn’t quite satisfied, but the hunger at least subsided, replaced with the pressure of so much food resting heavily in his rounded stomach. He sat back against his pillows, closing his eyes as he caught his breath and tried to push the contempt for the curse out of his mind.

 

Greer watched him and felt a mix of emotions. He cared deeply for the prince and wanted only for his comfort and happiness, so he was glad to see him finally looking at ease again. But there was a slight resentment for him ignoring his advice. He was not his adviser as Zephyr was, but Zephyr was aloof and unconcerned with deeper underlying problems than just the magic of the curse. 

Greer’s concern was for the prince’s emotional wellbeing through this. And the prince’s stupid decision to try to hide the elephant in the room was surely only going to cause him strife. On top of this he felt guilt for thinking poorly of the prince at all. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to be in his position at the moment; cursed, balancing a possibly endangered engagement that was important to his family, dealing with the stress of having his fiance over, all on top of having to adjust to a drastic change in his size and behavior. Greer knew it had to be hard on him even if he tried to hide it.

Still, he was in a tough place himself. He couldn’t very well scold the royal elf for his foolish decision. So all he could do was very gently try to bring his attention to the flaws in his course of action.

“...Sire,” the butler spoke softly for his attention after a couple of minutes of quiet. “Will this be our way of doing things for every meal while the princess is here?”

“Mm… No. Not every meal. Just every dinner.” The butler furrowed his brows at that answer. “I’ll just have to eat less during the day. The princess will notice if I gorge myself like this while everyone is awake. If I just eat after they’ve gone to bed, she won’t know.”

“...If that’s what you wish, sire. But I think she will notice something is wrong if you continue to gain weight at the rate you have so far,” Greer said, looking down at the engorged prince from his position near the bed. “She is a bit odd, but she doesn’t seem like a fool, and the change has not been slow or subtle.”

“I know. I’ll need to speak with Zephyr. That girdle is a nightmare but perhaps he can use his magic to get it to work a little more effectively. Maybe give it some sort of illusion magic to make sure I always look the same to her or something along those lines,” Oren mused. “For now, I just need to rest. This has been a very stressful day…” Unsurprisingly, lying in bed without his clothes and with a belly full of warm, rich foods, the prince looked just about ready to nod off then and there. Greer nodded in understanding.

“I’ll see to it that he comes to speak with you first thing in the morning,” the butler said with a soft sigh of defeat, gathering up the used plates and putting them back on the cart. He bade the prince goodnight, quietly pushing the carts out into the hallway and closing the door behind him. Once out there, he just stood in place for a short while, tiredly holding his head. He hoped that the princess would grow bored as Oren had said she would. 

 

If not, he had a feeling the prince would only have more problems on his plate than before.


	5. A Growing Concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the prince confined to his room under the pretense of an illness, Ashling discovers something in the forest that both worries Zephyr and benefits his work for the prince.

The princess had thought things were going quite well at first. The prince was odd and seemed to like a lot of time to himself, but she wasn’t needy. However, some time into settling in at his home, the prince had suddenly become a recluse. She barely heard from him, though she worried greatly when Greer informed her that he had become stricken with some sort of illness that left him confined to his room for fear of her catching it as well. It wasn’t anything too serious, seeming to just be a flu or something like it according to the butler and their mage. She questioned the weight they should give to the opinion of the daemon since he didn’t seem to be a healer, but she trusted the butler’s opinion given his loyalty to the prince.

 

Without her host she had to find ways to entertain herself. She had Kiara to keep her company of course, playing games with her and the like, but there was still the ever so slight discomfort she took in just helping herself to things within someone else’s home when they used Prince Oren’s things. So as much as she tried, she never really was truly comfortable without him there to talk to and include in their activities.

After a couple days of this, she decided it was time to somewhat take advantage of his absence and go about some more active hobbies of hers. She had been feeling a little snug in her dresses lately, from the rich foods the prince’s kitchen seemed to favor no doubt. Her normally quite straight and thin waist had grown slightly. Not enough that she worried it would be terribly noticeable but enough for her to notice that her belly now pushed out modestly below her waistline rather than keeping its flat shape. So she took it as a sign that she shouldn’t spend so much time moping around the manor and waiting for Oren to recover from his illness.

Ashling dressed in her riding boots and breeches, having one of the servants show her out to the stables and help her select the mare Oren had said was his when they had first discussed the stables. The mare was tall and sleek with a long jet black mane carefully braided to keep it neat and untangled. Her coat was a soft grey, making her an overall gentler looking mount than she had pictured when the prince described her as tough to handle. She would have to tease Oren later for riding “an old grey mare” as in the folk songs, even if this horse seemed to be right in her prime.

The stable boy saddled the mare for her while she checked her arrows and quiver and soon she was off into the forest to do some hunting, unattended much to Kiara’s behest who was left behind at the manor to worry over the princess’s return.

 

The forest was even more lush and beautiful than it had appeared from the outside looking in. She was mindful of the direction she was going, realizing it was so thick with trees and plant life that it would be very easy to lose her way if she was careless about her riding. Still, she took her time to admire the flowering bushes she passed and the vivid color of the fruits among certain trees she spotted along the way.

She noticed a beehive up among the branches of one tree as she forged on through the underbrush, much larger than any she had seen before and quite literally oozing with honey. She would have been tempted to try to take some if not for the mass of the hive giving her the impression that it housed a veritable army of insects that would surely notice such a theft. Still, such prosperity brought the question to mind as to why Prince Oren had not told her more about the bountiful paradise he lived next to. Surely a forest this lively would have been worth taking her out to see in person on his own, at least before he had fallen ill.

She was shaken from her thoughts by a stirring among the bushes a distance away. She urged the mare to stop, listening quietly for the sound again. Some moments passed before she spotted a pair of antlers poking up between a couple of the bushes. Had she not had her horse slowed to a leisurely walk in order to enjoy the forest, she would have surely scared the deer off with their noise before she even had a chance to know it was there. But the deer seemed unaware, not looking in their direction going by the angle of the antlers. She drew back her bow in silence. It wasn’t the most sporting situation, but it was an opportunity she wasn’t about to turn down.

The arrow flew straight, a single sound all that escaped the animal as it met its mark. The princess smiled proudly, pleased that even having spent some time away from the hunt she was still as true a marksman as she had ever been. She climbed down from the horse, going to press through the bushes to inspect her prize. Upon seeing it, she gasped in surprise.

Perhaps this forest was a little more strange than she had initially thought. She would need some help with this.

  


It was nearly sunset when the princess made herself known in Zephyr’s workspace. She was the last person he expected to see there, so his greeting was not very formal at first. He had turned from his work bench at hearing the door open, a slice of apple held between his sharp teeth as he mumbled a “yes?” through it before nearly spitting it out as he realized the other royal was there to address him.

He jumped to his feet, spitting out the apple slice into his hand and tossing it back onto his work table, something that got a look of confusion and slight disgust from the princess. “Ah, hello, your highness,” he greeted instead with a bow of his head. “Did you need my services?” he asked, uncertainty clear in his voice. His eyes moved subtly downward of the princess’s form, keenly picking up a slight change visible even in her riding outfit. Or perhaps because of her riding outfit, given her normal dresses featured an empress waistline that clung just belong her bust while these breeches instead met right at her natural waist. He could see the band was pinching ever so slightly into her shape, causing the little curve of belly just below to look rounder. Was that always there?

“Zephyr,” Ashling started, drawing his attention right back up to her eyes. “I’ve found something most unusual out in the forest and I worry magic may be at work. Will you inspect it for me and tell me if you agree? I’ve had the servants help me bring it back to the grounds outside the stables.”

“Of course, your highness. Please, show me what you would like inspected,” the adviser agreed, keeping his head dipped skittishly as he was still embarrassed over his initial slight she had yet to acknowledge. He turned only for a moment to throw a cloth cover over his current project which she had only made out to be some sort of cloth stretched out over some dowels. Ashling didn’t know anything about enchanting or alchemy, so she assumed this was a normal tool for his work and didn’t question this as she made her way outside to lead him to her findings.

Zephyr stared openly at what she had brought home, many possibilities going through his head over what it could possibly mean for the manor and for the forest. Stretched out on a large swathe of canvas that had been used to carry it was a deer, dead of course from the arrow shot clean into its head. However the notable trait of this animal was how very fat it was, impossibly so for a deer. It’s body was quite thick and round, leading up to an equally thick neck and full cheeks that made it look hardly like a deer at all. It sides bowed out drastically, surely slowing it down when it was alive to run around. It appeared as one might imagine a deer who spent all its time being hand fed by caretakers only treats of honey covered fruits and other foods much more hearty than mere grass and weeds.

“Much of the forest is overgrown and producing more than I’ve seen anywhere else,” Ashling told Zephyr, clearly puzzled by what she had seen. “Do you use magic to make the forest more plentiful?”  
“...No, we don’t,” Zephyr answered plainly, eyes still on the deer. He could draw an easy connection between this deer and the curse from the witch who had lived in the forest. It had always been unusually plentiful after all. But this was much beyond what had been observed before during his initial outing into the forest when he first arrived. Was it possible the effects were spreading or becoming more intense? “Your highness, may I have the antlers from your deer? Typically they are a common ingredient in magic, so I feel if anything has affected this deer, the magic would be concentrated there,” the advisor asked the princess, looking aside at her. Keeping the possible connection from her wasn’t the same as lying, right? And he needed to honor the prince’s wish not to tell her about the curse.

“Yes, please take them. I’m not sure I want any part of this deer if it is afflicted with something,” Ashling said with a frown.

“Well… If it is, it would likely only affect the deer itself. The meat should still be fine. If a little fattier than most,” Zephyr reasoned, casting his gaze over the fattened deer once more. “I will inform Greer though that you do not want any of it if he sees fit to send it to the kitchen to be prepared.” With that, he set about sawing off the antlers from the creature and then returning quickly to his workshop, ideas bubbling in his head.

He had told the truth about the antlers being a common spell ingredient. However, if they did house trace amounts of the curse, it was possible he could use this ingredient to complete the prince’s enchantment by reversing their effects. The one impossible request for his girdle was now something perfectly achievable. Once back to his workshop, he pulled off the cloth, looking at the girdle stretched over dowels to bring it to its natural full-size. Yes, he was fairly sure that he could do this now. He set about pulverizing one of the tips into a fine powder, a plan already laid out in his head as to how he was going to implement it.

Surely Oren would be very pleased. And if the curse affected animals, he could even test it on one to ensure the prince’s safety. Yes, what a brilliant stroke of luck that the princess had inadvertently helped secure the prince’s secret.

  


Zephyr arrived at Oren’s door early the next morning, just as Greer had entered to start helping the prince with his morning routine. The daemon let himself in, sticking his foot in the door behind Greer to stop him from closing it and drawing a look of annoyance from the butler.

“My lord,” Zephyr said quickly to avoid the butler’s scolding. “I’ve managed to make the item you requested, sir. It should work just as you asked,” he announced, holding out the modified girdle. The inside had a certain shimmering sheen to it that had not been there before, quite heavily laced with magic after all of the modifying he had done.

“Not a moment too soon,” Oren sighed with relief, glad to hear he would no longer have to hide out in his room. It was hard enough to figure out what he was going to do about clothing when he couldn’t leave his bedroom for the tailors or sneak them in without drawing attention from his guests. “Please, help me put it on.” Zephyr and Greer each took one of Oren’s hands to help pull him up onto his feet, something of a strain on all three of them, before Zephyr worked with the butler to stretch the girdle all the way around the prince’s expanded form. The mage had taken into account that the prince was still growing while the girdle was being worked on so it would surely fit around him, but it was still a struggle to clasp it shut as the seams strained and bulged with their newly occupied space.

Zephyr sighed once they got it on, wiping his brow with his hand and watching as slowly but surely, the prince’s form began to lose some of its impressive girth.

“My lord, there are certain restrictions to it. But I feel it will suit your purposes just fine,” the daemons said, seeing how delighted the prince was with presumably having a great weight lifted from him. “It will retain a certain size, however the garment itself has physical properties that must be preserved. You cannot eat beyond what would normally be your capacity for the size you are while wearing it, as that could stretch it out and cause its effects to lessen, or worse by possibly tearing it and causing it to lose its effect entirely. You must take it off before you go to bed to ensure it will last longer. And if you grow too large for it to be able to close around you, I will have to make a new one, as it must be worn properly to use its magic.”  
“Yes, I understand,” Oren said, almost dismissively as he seemed to be all wrapped up in eagerly watching his figure revert back to his old self. At least, it almost did. It stopped just short of the 300 pounds he had been when Ashling arrived, leaving him still fairly hefty but still a great deal lighter than what he’d been dealing with just minutes prior. He decided he was happy to accept this weight, especially given he already had clothes that would fit it. One less visit from his tailor.

“That’s about the limit of what I could get it to do,” Zephyr admitted meekly. “It takes you to a certain fraction of your actual weight.”  
“This is perfectly acceptable, Zephyr. You’ve done exactly as I asked. Good job,” the prince praised him with a smile, though he glanced back down as the short undergarments he had been wearing before now fell to the floor without so much mass to cling to, leaving him wearing only the girdle. “Ah. Now would you please leave so that I may finish getting dressed?” the prince said, waving off his advisor with a certain energy and confidence he had been lacking since the princess’s arrival.

“Of course, your highness,” the daemon said, eyes politely pointed ceiling-ward to avoid casting any unwanted looks on the prince’s uncovered body as he made his way to the door. Greer watched him go then looked over Oren and his girdle. It was not wise in his eyes to hide the curse but at the same time… He had to admit he was happy to see the prince looking so lively after days of sulking over being confined to his room, even if it was the prince’s own idea. Even when the truth did inevitably come out to Ashling about why he was so closed off, the enchanted garment would be useful in ensuring the prince could remain mobile and able to do all the things he enjoyed.

The butler worried for what the future may hold for them if Zephyr’s brilliance did not extend to finding a way to actually break the curse, but this was a good step in the right direction that he could appreciation. The prince would be spared of his opinions and concerns today.

“Allow me to iron one of your old suits, my lord. I believe you are just the right size for the violet one you ordered some time ago,” the butler told Prince Oren with a smile, gladly preparing his prince to face the day with a renewed vigor. Surely Princess Ashling was going to be relieved to see he was alive and well.


	6. Pleasant Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oren begins spending time with Ashling again and decides to take her out to a local festival for food and drinks, bringing Kiara and Zephyr along with them. She is suspicious of him, but finds that she is falling for his charms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic and my Pepper Poppers fic each surpassed 100 kudos this month. Thank you guys so much for all the positive feedback! I hope you continue to enjoy as I add on.

 

Ashling wasn’t sure what to make of the prince’s sudden recovery from his illness. He seemed to have lost a little weight, which made sense if he really was stuck in bed suffering from a stomach bug. But with how cheery he was when he greeted her and how eagerly he accompanied her to breakfast, she was suspicious. He didn’t seem like someone who had just had an illness so serious he wouldn’t accept visitors. His appetite was apparently as voracious as ever and his complexion seemed flush and healthy. At least she assumed since she wasn’t too familiar with dark elves outside of her time there at his manor and some encounters at large social gatherings.

She couldn’t outright accuse him but given the strange encounter with the deer in the forest and the prince’s odd behavior, she decided she was going to be a little skeptical now of things he and his staff told her.

 

She watched Oren as they sat down at the table for breakfast, Kiara and Zephyr joining them as usual. Oren had switched to a new chair since they had first arrived, going from the normal dining chair that had gotten stuck on him their first night there to a wider one with a tall back and no arms. He certainly seemed more comfortable in this one, no longer squirming with discomfort as he had during the initial encounter. 

Instead he was quite enthusiastic about his breakfast, his plate laden with sausage and quail eggs and various little breakfast pastries aside from the much more space consuming stack of pancakes drizzled in honey. The pat of butter on top was to excess, but he seemed more than happy with it as he cut up the pancakes into pieces to eat.

He hummed as he brought a big bite of soft pancake to his mouth, savoring the taste. As much as he was free to stuff himself while locked away in his room, he had been limited to rather plain foods outside of dinner so as not to alert his guests, lest they catch the scent of sugary sweet breakfast foods and the like from his kitchen. Dinner wasn’t as much of a problem since by then everyone had retired to their rooms.

Kiara looked to Ashling, furrowing her brows as she saw how Ashling was staring at the prince as he ate and similarly was putting away her breakfast without any thought. She seemed annoyed so the handmaiden didn’t want to bother her, but she did note that she needed to do something about the princess’s clothes with how her appetite had increased. She made a note to let them out a bit the next time she washed her dresses.

“I’m so happy to see you’ve fully recovered from your illness,” Ashling commented, causing Oren to pause in his eating.

“Mm. Yes, Zephyr was quite helpful in my recovery,” he said, the daemon jumpily looking at the prince when his name was mentioned. Zephyr hoped he wouldn’t have to make up some sort of story as to how he healed the prince. He simply nodded then stuffed half a pancake in his mouth to avoid talking, cheeks filled as he chewed and looked down at his plate. Oren squinted at him before looking to Ashling again with a smile. “I’m sorry for not being able to spend time with you while I was bedridden. But we can make up for it now.”

“Oh? So do we have plans together today then?”

“We do, in fact. I thought that you might appreciate a trip into the town. I’ve recovered just in time for the Flowering Festival. It began yesterday, so it’s the perfect opportunity for you to see the people. Surely you’ve wondered what sort of lord I am to the people on my land, haven’t you?” Oren asked her. While he wasn’t exactly a man of the people, he still saw to it that his people were provided for. So he had a good relationship with the townsfolk and it seemed like a good thing to show Ashling to make up for his neglectfulness toward her in the prior days.

 

Greer cleared his throat softly, catching his prince’s attention. He leaned down to whisper to the prince, reminding him that the beginning of the festival taking place in town meant a litany of foods for sale and that he should be careful of how much he ate if he wanted to partake in any of them without stretching his girdle. Oren nodded, pretending he had said something else.

“Yes, please see to it the carriage is ready for us by the time we are done here,” Oren said, pushing his plate aside. He wasn’t going to test his luck when the potential outcome was humiliation in front of crowds of his people and his fiance if the girdle popped a seam and he suddenly swelled out of his clothes. He couldn’t trust himself not to indulge in the festival foods as well so all he could do was stop before he had too much breakfast. As he started to feel some disappointment at not getting to finish his food, he at least was cheered up by seeing Ashling’s eagerness for the festival.

“I didn’t even know there was a festival going on. To think we nearly missed it,” she said, standing up. “Please, give me a moment to go and change into a dress more suited to spending time outside. This one will just catch on things along the streets.”

“Oh, take your time. Whatever you need to be comfortable, Ashling,” Oren assured her with a smile, standing up himself. Kiara and Zephyr took this as their sign to leave the table as well, Kiara tailing after Ashling to help her find a breezy dress that would still fit her and Zephyr lingering behind with Oren. Oren looked to his advisor. “Zephyr, I would like it if you were to come with us to the festival in Greer’s stead.” The butler gave a concerned look.

“Sire?”

“I’m sorry, Greer, but I’m very concerned at the possibility of Aria’s magic extending to the festival given what Zephyr found about the forest. I will need someone familiar with magic to stick close with us and make sure nothing goes horribly awry,” the prince told his butler. He gently placed a ringed hand on Greer’s shoulder, Greer averting his eyes and giving an apologetic smile for his concern. “It is nothing against you. But you are most useful to me staying at home to keep the manor running while we have our outing.”

“Yes, my lord. I am sorry for questioning your decision.” He was glad to hear he hadn’t done anything to fall out of the prince’s favor but he disliked this situation. Oren heading into town without him, only accompanied by Ashling and Kiara who knew little of what was happening and by Zephy who knew little of the local customs. However, he didn’t dare suggest he turn the group of four into a group of five. The princess would likely want to know why exactly Oren needed two of his servants along with him, three if counting the footman. There was no reason to bring to attention that Greer generally served as Oren’s companion at such events. With just the locals, it didn’t particularly matter. But among other royals, it could be seen as inappropriate for the prince to have a friendship with a butler, especially when he should be spending time with his fiance. Zephyr was the safer choice. “I will go and fetch the footman and see to it that the carriage is readied for your departure.”

  
  


\---

 

Ashling was surprised to see how much less formal the festival was than events she had been familiar with. Usually there was so much ceremony involved with meticulously coordinated traditional dances and careful observance of particular acts to celebrate whatever event had been worth commemorating. But Oren’s people were quite different. They ate and drank and sang and played games together, no particular order of events seeming to be in place. Even the street performers who appeared to be travelers from various areas simply did as they pleased with no need for any sort of organization or schedule of performances. It was all quite light-hearted and she enjoyed it a lot.

She did notice though that the prince got quite a few stares from his subjects. He had claimed he attended every year, so the only conclusion she could reach was that he really had been reclused while hiding his newly enlarged form. She hadn’t thought he would care to hide it from even his subjects, but she supposed that rumors could still travel based on what they saw. None seemed wary of the prince however as despite his still proper and somewhat haughty attitude, he was perfectly at home with buying their homemade treats and asking performers about their travels. Not a prince of the people entirely, but still one who was comfortable with the populace and whose people knew he wouldn’t tyrannically punish any who failed to shower him with adulation.

The princess thanked a vendor who provided her with a crown of flowers and berries then turned to look to the prince who was in the process of drinking a mug of ale. She watched him, giving a soft sigh under her breath as she watched the slight bob of his chin with each swallow. The seclusion still had her somewhat cross with him… But she found he was just too cute to be very upset with. Prim and formal as he may be, he was a glutton and his soft figure and honest pleasure he took in his food had turned out to be quite endearing to her. She couldn’t even really say why. Kiara was probably the heaviest elf she personally knew in her day to day life so perhaps it was simply that he was so extremely contrasted with what she was familiar with.

The prince finished the mug and set the empty container back down on the table, looking to see if Ashling had picked out what she had wanted. He smiled at seeing her adorned in flowers and she couldn’t help her slight smile in return. Perhaps she was a bit taken with him. Even if he was a little strange and seemed to have a habit of keeping secrets from her. For now, she could just enjoy the festival with him and not worry about that.

 

Zephyr strayed a little more from the royal pair than the highelf handmaiden did, going around to various booths and seeming to almost be sniffing around for something. Kiara kept an eye on him from her place nearby to Ashling, still a bit wary of the daemon. She hated to judge someone too harshly for what they were but given the daemons’ combative past among the other beings of their realm and how dangerous much of their magic was, she couldn’t shake her suspicion for him. Especially when she had learned he hadn’t been a very long time advisor of the prince. Now his strange behavior had her attention, seeing him pick up and put down various goods at the booths.

The daemon picked up a particularly large fox pelt and held it to his face, taking in a deep inhale of its scent. He lowered it and looked to the hunter running the booth who appeared fairly perturbed at this behavior.

“Is this locally trapped?” he asked the hunter, who gave a slow nod and explained his traps in the area neighboring the prince’s lands. Zephyr nodded as well and put the pelt back down. “Yes, good, that makes sense.” He left the booth and moved on to the next one, leaving the hunter as confused as Kiara was.

Kiara turned to Ashling to ask her if she had seen the exchange but stopped as she saw the princess and prince speaking playfully with each other while they enjoyed some of the sugar-dusted sweetbreads someone had offered them. Seeing the princess finally enjoying herself again, she didn’t want to interfere. So she just watched the daemon skitter about, frowning some at his strange questions toward just about every vendor they passed.

 

As the day rolled into the late afternoon, Ashling was feeling stuffed. After seeing the baker and one of the hunters each successfully gift the royal couple some of their festival treats, it seemed to become a trend among the locals. They wanted to gain favor with them as well, and so everywhere they went they were offered food and drink. Oren’s ravenous appetite kept pace very easily and he complimented each item he was given, seeming to only fan the flames in a sense. Ashling however had started to hand things off to Kiara and even occasionally to Zephyr as she became too full, her stomach pressing out against her loose dress and causing it to drape over the shape of the rollypolly ball it had formed.

Kiara had tried to eat each thing Ashling offered her, knowing she didn’t want to waste it, but soon she too felt she had had too much and that her corset was unmercifully compressing what would have shown of her bloated belly. Zephyr, the light eater he was, had started to just place any treats abandoned to him into his bag after some time, saying quite plainly to the princess at one point “I would hate to become sick in the presence of my lord and his fiance.” And that had put an end to that.

However, she had noticed now at this point that Oren still accepted foods offered to him and that he was looking a little bloated. In fact… She watched him with squinted eyes in confusion as he polished off another jelly filled pastry and seemed to give a slight quiver. It was as if a stitch had popped on his vest caughting him to swell outward more ever so slightly, except all-over. Zephyr who had still been on his information gathering mission seemed to finally take notice and appeared at Oren’s side, alarming him slightly by reaching up to hold onto his wrist-cuff.

“My lord. I believe you’ve had enough.” Though the daemon had said some things the high elves found odd before, Kiara and Ashling were both taken aback at this very blunt and rude statement to the prince. Oren seemed surprised as well, still holding another pastry in his hand and looking down at Zephyr. They shared a look that the princess couldn’t quite decipher but suddenly the prince’s posture relaxed and he nodded as though to agree. She could hardly believe with his sensitivity about his weight that he would simply accept the advisor’s remark.

“I suppose I have,” Oren said, brushing a little bit of powdered sugar from his vest with his free hand. His face felt warm, blushing slightly at the thought he had been so enraptured in his indulgence that he had forgotten something so important as not to overeat while wearing the garment Zephyr had made for him. He loathed to think of himself bloating up right in front of his people there in the town square, swelling out of his clothes and tearing them like a rising dough wrapped in fragile parchment. He would have never lived down the humiliation. “Here, Zephyr. Eat this for me,” he told the daemon, getting a soft groan from his advisor. These damn elves.

“Fine,” he murmured, taking the pastry and looking at it with distaste. He could say no to the princess, but the prince had hired him and so he was at his command. It felt thick and sweet on his tongue and throat but he managed to get it down, lightly grasping his modestly bloated stomach.

“I suppose we should be going anyway. We’ve seen most of what there is to see, and we can always come back tomorrow if you saw something else you wanted, my dear,” Oren said to Ashling.

“Hm… Alright. Perhaps Kiara and I will come back on our own to buy some clothes. I’ve been meaning to purchase some new dresses and the women with that kart from the east had the most darling designs,” the princess said, still wanting to look but knowing with how full she was she didn’t want to walk around anymore. The group headed back for the carriage, Kiara lingering some by Zephyr as they went.

“You know, I think you should be a little more appreciative of your prince,” the handmaiden told him with a small frown, getting only a confused look from Zephyr.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“He didn’t have to bring you with us. But you’ve spent all day behaving embarrassingly and being rude. You were even rude to him. Most royals would have you punished severely for behaving like this. I know you haven’t worked for royalty before, but you could embarrass him publicly if you keep it up,” Kiara told him with a small frown, at this point more concerned than really irritated with him. She took pride in her position and knew very well how temperamental some of the other nobles had been that she had met. 

“Ah.” Zephyr scratched his cheek, pointed ears laying low. “Where I am from, it is considered rude to ‘beat around the bush’ as some people say. If you aren’t getting out the information you want to share or want to gain from the person, you are wasting their time. It’s a good way to anger anyone whose time is of any worth to them.” The elf raised a brow at this and he realized his customs meant little to her. “...But I will try to speak more formally with my prince. Thank you for the advice.”

 

When they reached the carriage, Ashling was let in first, followed by Oren. There was a heavy creak when he climbed in and Ashling held the edge of her seat when the carriage shifted slightly, but once he sat down next to her everything was balanced again. He let out a breathy sigh, seeming a little tired out from the outing as he rested his hands on his stomach. He was more full than she had ever seen before, weighty stomach resting against his thighs while he sat and having a certain solidness it normally lacked. She wanted to touch it, but Kiara and Zephyr joined them so she kept her hands on her lap.

“Thank you for taking me to the festival,” she said to Oren instead. “I know you haven’t been feeling well, so it means a lot to me that we still did this together.” The dark elf was taken aback at this, looking at her in surprise and seeming lost for words for a moment. He hadn’t really expected it to make much of a difference to her outside of curing her boredom for the day. But he smiled and bowed his head slightly.

“Of course, my princess. I hope you had fun,” he told her, reaching over to take her hand. She smiled and leaned lightly against him at this gesture, comfortable against his pillowy side as the carriage started off on the road back to the manor. 


End file.
